Back to White
by nightgems
Summary: When someone breaks into David and Gwen's cabins on an unusually cold night day, the counselors start to worry that someone in the camp is misbehaving. However, it isn't the dangers inside the camp that the counselors should be worried about; it's the dangers lurking inside the woods. A danger with bright white clothing and a unmatched bloodlust.
1. Chapter 1

The same song started to get old. During his…stay, in the hospital, he was practically glued to the television. The same advertisement would play over and over again, and eventually the jingle got burned into his skull. It consumed his every waking hour, a constant, inescapable tune that ricocheted off the insides of his mind with no signs of slowing down. A pounding rhythm with empty words. It didn't matter what the words said, or what they were persuading you to buy. He was grateful to have some sort of entertainment on his journey, no matter how tormenting it was. No matter how much he hated it.

Daniel wasn't sure how many days he had been walking through the forest. His provisions that he had stolen from the hospital and the convenience store in town were running low, and he was sure that he had some sort of infection from one plant or another. His crisp white shirt that he was able to salvage from the backroom in the hospital had been torn and stained. He almost wished he had kept that awful nightgown that they had given him. At least it was clean.

Passing a rock that looked identical to the one that he had passed 15 minutes ago, he dreamed about what it would be like to finally reach his destination. In his mind, he pictured green grass. A crystal blue lake. Warm red flames under a bright night sky. The crackling of the fire. The cracking of… something else. And the snapping of their necks as they turn around and their eyes widen for one last rush of adrenaline. Daniel smiled to himself as he kicked up some dust. What would the poor counselors do? He imagined the girl counselor would probably try and save a couple of campers. Or maybe she would just take off, like she did when he had first arrived. She seemed like the smartest in that God-forsaken camp. It was a shame, really. She could have been useful. It would have been nice to purify her.

However, Daniel had learned from his mistakes. He had been to ambitious with his previous attempt to purify the campers. Building a sauna? He cringed whenever he looked back on that. What was he thinking? It was too complicated, too many steps were involved. This time, he would go with the easier approach. He hated to ditch it, but the Kool-Aid would have to go too. Plus, it's not like they sell large amounts of it at the convenience store (he was a bit disappointed to find that out). Taking his knife out of his back pocket, he studied it with a keen, and slightly nostalgic, eye. Curved and ragged edges, paired with a silver hilt wrapped in leather. The blade was a bit dull, and not to mention dirty. But in the reflection he could still see his own pale eyes staring back at him. He would have thought his haggard appearance would have startled him, but the cultist was not new to being physically careless. His hair was greasy and sticking up in random directions, with dust and dirt setting into his scalp. Cuts underlined his eyes and the bandage around his hand was stiff with dried blood. To reiterate, he looked like someone who had sworn off bathing and then proceeded to run a marathon through a jungle. He made a face at himself in the knife, and then returned it to his back pocket. Ignoring the painful squeezing feeling in his stomach, he continued to walk through the forest. Things were starting to look new; the grass wasn't as dark, and the canopy was letting more and more light down to the forest floor. The birds were louder, and there seemed to be some resemblance of a path in the distance. Daniel managed somewhat of a smile. There was one thing that he was excited to do once he reached Camp Cambell.

God, he was excited to murder David.

David, on the other hand, woke up singing. Not that this was unusual for him; he usually got out of bed humming a familiar tune. Maybe it was an old camp song, or something he had heard on the radio from the previous day. Today it was a commercial jingle. He happily mumbled the words as he put on his clothes, sliding a clean shirt over himself along with a pair of soft jeans (as it seemed to have gotten a tad chilly since yesterday) and finally completing the outfit with his favorite boots, his yellow bandana, and a sweater. The fresh scent of the outside world enamored him for the millionth time. He would never do drugs (he avidly told his campers that the only thing they should get high off of is life!), because why would he need to? Waking up to the smell of nature was enough to fulfill him. Not only nature, but his campers too! He knew sometimes they were… well, for lack of a better word, uncooperative, but that didn't stop him from trying to make their camp experience the best it could be. Even the most pessimistic ones, like little Max for example, had fun sometimes. David was sure of it. How could he not? It was Camp Campbell, after all!

He opened the door and began to walk out, but something stopped him. He was expecting cold air to blast him, but the air outside his cabin was the same as the air outside. Cold, colder than usual. Even though they were poorly made and on the verge of collapsing, the insulation was pretty good. David's cabin was usually warm on colder days like these, so why…?

David scanned the room, looking some sort of breach in the walls. Unsuccessful, he huffed and shook his head. It was nothing, he convinced himself. It was probably just a hole near the bottom of the walls he couldn't see. He'd get more blankets, no big deal. He left the cabin without looking back this time, walking out with the usual pep in his step.

He walked (well, it was more like skipping, but David only skipped on purpose if he was really overjoyed) to the mess hall to find his campers and his co-counselor eating breakfast. Gwen was sitting at the counselor table next to the window, hovering over a checklist with a look of slight disappointment on her face. David slid into the seat next to her, and ceased his humming. "Hey, Gwen!" He flashed a smile. "Looking over the checklist for activities, huh? What's on the menu today?"

She didn't look up at him. "Well," she sighed, "seems like outdoor pottery is out. Along with Preston's eighth— no, ninth production this week, and the Quartermaster's lesson on tanning animal skins."

David's face fell. "Why? I bet the kids were all really looking forward to those!"

A voice from the back yelled "No we fucking weren't!"

David ignored the voice and bent his head down so he could see Gwen's face better. "How come?"

She lifted her head and David did too. He could see now that her nose was red, along with her cheeks. She was only wearing her usual T-shirt and shorts, and seemed to be shivering a bit. "Oh, gosh Gwen, here…" He took off his sweater and handed it to her. She accepted it with a small smile of gratitude. "It's too cold for the outdoor activities," her voice sounded muffled while she put on David's sweater. "The kids'll freeze, and not many of them brought sweaters except for, like, Max. And I doubt he'd share."

"You're fucking right I won't!"

David watched as her head popped out of his sweater and she fixed her hair. "This is easily one of the coldest days I've spent here… Actually, I don't think it's ever been this cold."

Looking back, David knew she was right. In all his years as a camper and a counselor, it never reached a temperature like this. He looked out the window and noticed that frost had started to creep up on the sides of the glass. Gwen followed his gaze, and then looked back to him. "Oh, that reminds me; was your room cold this morning?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it was cold, but we have more blankets upstairs in the attic, and I'm sure if we ask Mr. Campbell—"

"No," Gwen interrupted, dropping her voice into something above a whisper. She leaned in. "This morning I woke up and I found my window open. It was probably one of the campers, but I haven't figured out which one yet."

The windows! David had forgotten to check the windows in his cabin. "Did you find anything in your room? You know how our kids like to play pranks…" David rubbed his arm, remembering the last time one of the campers played a trick on him. It had left a pretty nasty bruise.

"That's the strangest part. I didn't find anything in my room except for this." She reached into her pocket and held up a small piece of what looked like metal. It was dirty and looked as if it had been broken off of something larger. The tip of the metal looked sharp, like a tooth of a monster. "I found it near my window lock. I bet one of the kids had used a knife to reach under the window and slide the lock over, but the tip broke off."

David frowned when he thought of one of his campers wielding a blade of any kind. There was a reason they didn't do wood carving camp anymore. Then, he thought of something. "Did you ask the Quartermaster if any of his kitchen knives were missing?"

She nodded. "Nothing was gone."

David's eyebrows knitted. "But we took Nerf's pocket knife away. One of the kids must be hiding another one."

"So, we find the kid with a broken knife. Shouldn't be too hard." Gwen stood up. "Alright, kids, listen up!"

All the heads in the room swiveled to face Gwen, except for Erid who had her earbuds in and was nodding her head to the music with closed eyes.

Gwen walked to the front of the room. David noticed that even in his sweater that was decorated with little dogs and cats on the hem and a giant paw print with text that read "I'm Purrrfect!", she radiated respect. If he had went up there with that sweater, he would have been torn to shreds by the campers. But all he heard were couple snickers as she started her announcement.

"Look, we've already talked to you guys about opening our windows at night. It's really fucking creepy—… ACHOO!" Everyone in the room was startled as Gwen sneezed. Her eyes were starting to look red. She wiped her nose on the sweater sleeve, much to David's dismay, and continued. " …and we don't have the budget to get the security system we want to protect ourselves from you fuckers so, here's the deal." She pointed a finger into the audience of young children. "Whoever broke into our cabins last night hands over their knife, and they'll only be punished with 5 days of scrubbing the toilets. Otherwise, everyone gets their dessert privileges taken away."

All Hell broke loose. A chorus of angry campers yelling obscenities and throwing leftover breakfast at Gwen almost broke out into a full riot before Max stood on the table. He looked confused and angry, and mirrored Gwen's pointed finger. His voice rose about the rest, "Whoa, why do you think it was us anyways?! No one wants to go into your shitty rooms!"

"Yeah, it's more funny to torture you guys when you're awake." Nikki said with a toothy smile. "There's no point in stealing your stuff when you're asleep, then there's no high speed chase!"

Gwen lowered her pointed finger. "There is literally no one else at this camp who could have done it besides you guys. David and I didn't break into our own cabins."

Max shrugged. "Maybe you guys were sleepwalking. Stop blaming your issues on us."

Gwen turned towards David with a look that said _Get up here and help me or I'll break your neck_. David swallowed and walked up to stand next to Gwen. "Guys," he said, "please be honest. Gwen's sick because of one of you, and that really isn't cool."

Again, silence. Gwen glared at him and he started again. "One of you could get really hurt with a knife, and your safety is out top priority." That prompted a couple of scoffs but he continued. "Hand it over and no one has to scrub the toilets, okay?"

Neil spoke up, holding his hands in the way he does when he's nervous. "Sure, we really hate you guys, but none of us broke into your rooms. And no one has a knife either. There's only like, what, fifteen of us? Word gets around fast, and no one said anything about messing with you guys last night."

Gwen seemed to lose her confidence for a moment. Their alibi was pretty solid, David had to admit; the campers mostly tell each other everything and they don't work alone. In each prank there's been three of four partners in crime.

Gwen turned to David and was about to whisper something in his ear before Nerris said "It probably wasn't the Girl Scouts or the Wood Scouts either. My fortress faces the river and I didn't see any enemy ships last night."

There was a murmuring of agreement among the campers that it wasn't the other camp's style to break into the cabins of the counselors. Their beef was with the other campers and the other campers alone.

Gwen seemed to be relieved that the possibility of Pikeman breaking into her cabin was gone, but that also meant that they had no idea who broke into their rooms. David looked over at her and saw that she looked worse than before. Her eyes were slightly droopy and snot was sliding down out of her nose. He put his hand on her forehead and felt warmth; had she already gotten a fever?

"Is Gwen sick? Does that mean we don't have to do activities today?" Harrison asked loudly. David looked at the group with a disapproving look. "No, kids. Just because one counselor is sick doesn't mean it's a free day! We can—" Rain started to pound down on the roof of the mess hall. "… we'll do inside activities today."

Groans erupted from the group as David handed Gwen off to the Quartermaster to help her back to her cabin. As the Quartermaster opened the door, David saw a flash of white in the woods. White, with blond… no. David shook his head as the door closed. Don't be silly, he chided himself. That wouldn't be a problem anymore. He faced the unenthusiastic group of campers with a smile that was slightly forced. "Who wants to do basket weaving again?" There was nothing to worry about. There was nothing to worry about.

There was nothing to worry about.

The Quartermaster left Gwen in her room with a thermometer in her mouth and what looked like some sort of meat soup at her bedside. She climbed into bed, and closed her eyes. There was nothing to worry about, she thought. She fell asleep with a feeling of uneasiness. She fell asleep with David's sweater still on. She fell asleep just before a blond man with a broken knife slipped the blade under her window and climbed into her room with a rag soaked in chloroform.


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel had to stifle a laugh when he saw the Quartermaster practically hauling the that counselor, he remembered that Gwen was her name, back to her cabin. For a moment he debated if it was a trap; bait like this was too easy. Maybe she was pretending to be sick so she could get him. Maybe she had a gun under her pillow. Maybe she had backup.

But he had seen the Quartermaster leave, and he had caught a glance of the campers and David in the mess hall, seemingly oblivious. Without them, what other back-up would Gwen have?

This really was too easy.

He carefully made his way to the cabin. The rain was getting worse, and while this made his job a little more time sensitive, it didn't change his plan. As long as he was able to abduct Gwen without too much struggle, then he should be home-free. He held his breath in anticipation as he slid his knife under the window, and silently flipped the lock. The window creaked as it opened, but it was hard to hear over the rain outside. Like a snake, slippery and slick, he climbed through the window and stood at the very foot of the bed.

As he observed his prey, he noticed she was especially pale. Sweat beaded her forehead and she was breathing in small, exasperated huffs. She had not woken up yet, though Daniel doubted she could defend herself even if she was awake. He pondered the idea of just stealing her away without the use of drugs, but eventually settled on using a small amount of chloroform, mixed with other things he didn't know the name of. He pulled a white rag from his pocket as well as a small vial of liquid. After prying off the cap to the bottle with his knife, Daniel gingerly poured a couple of drops into the rag, and advanced on the sleeping counselor. He almost would have enjoyed seeing her eyes flutter open as he pressed the rag against her mouth. That moment of confusion, and then pure fear, was one of his favorite things. It was complete control over another human being, their physical person at the mercy of whatever was able to overtake it. Daniel learned the hard way that it was better to overtake than to be overtaken. Because once you are overtaken, you no longer belong to yourself.

There was no change in her behavior once he removed the rag from her face, but Daniel didn't have time to check if the drugs had worked. Rain was starting to slam the roof of the cabin, threatening to bust through and soak the two of them. Daniel tossed the rag on the floor, and threw the blankets off of Gwen. His eyes were instantly drawn towards the sweater she was wearing; disgusting caricatures of dogs and cats that instantly brought Daniel's mind to David. This must be David's sweater. There was no way in Hell that she would wear something like this. It was too goddamn… David. His name, though unsaid, left a bad taste in Daniel's mouth. He would never admit it, but David was the version of Daniel that was better. He was the version that Daniel had wanted to be for so long, before Daniel became content with himself. The cultist now was in full understanding of what his purpose was supposed to be. Staring down at his victim only stabilized the idea in his mind that he was meant to be in a position of power.

He slid his knife back into the sheath and placed the vial back into his pocket. Leaving the rag on the desk, he managed to pick up Gwen and decided it would be easier to just leave through the door. Before he left the cabin, he wondered if he should take anything. Maybe a couple of blankets, since the bunker in the woods was slightly understocked. Ultimately, he settled on taking some pillows and a scratchy quilt of some kind, for comfort. With the counselor over his shoulder, he slipped out of the cabin like the way he came inside.

It was a slight trek to the shelter. Helpfully, there was a small trail that diverted from the main path that helped Daniel find his way through the rain. It was almost torrential, the rain echoing across the trees like the hum of drumming. There was little to no moonlight filtering through the trees as he dragged himself and his victim through mud and leaves. He wondered what would happen if she woke, and his heart started to pound. As quickly as his anxieties appeared, they subsided as he told himself that there was no reason to panic.

If she woke, he would hit her. And if she screamed, no one would be able to hear her.

As he grinned almost innocently, lighting broke out in the sky and illuminated the entrance to his temporary home. A steel door that lead to a concrete shack, partly embedded into the side of a large cluster of boulders. Leaning against the side of the bunker was a cardboard box full of firewood, now completely soaked. Daniel cursed under his breath but continued towards the door, his grip still tight on Gwen. With one hand he reached into his pocket and fished out the key, fumbling a bit to place it in the lock but ultimately succeeding, and entering. The door shut behind him as lighting flashed across a dark, dark forest.

The bunker was spacious at the bottom level. A large room made up of concrete walls and a concrete floor, pillars holding it up for support. Hooks for tools and clothes lined the walls on one side and cabinets on the other. An old beer cooler sat in the corner next to a small cot with dirty bed sheets. A wooden chair sat in the middle of the room, where the unconscious Gwen now sat. Hands tied behind her back and her ankles tied to the legs of the chair, Daniel knew she wasn't going anywhere. He lifted her slumped head and placed the back of his hand on her forehead.

Hot. Really, really hot.

At first this may seem like a good thing for Daniel. A sick victim is a powerless victim. However, what if she developed something worse? She was out in the rain, could she have pneumonia? He glanced at her lips, slightly parted but not blue. His gaze lingered for a moment, and then he let her head fall again. "No," he muttered, but his voice was loud in the silent room. "She'll be fine. Everything will go according to plan. With her here, everything will work out."

He grazed his hand against her cheek. Then, he went over to his cot, soaked from head to toe, and fell asleep to the sound of her haggard breathing and water dripping down from the surface.

Max groaned as he felt himself being shaken awake. Small hands gripped his shoulders and voices called out his name quietly but urgently as he opened his eyes to see Neil and Nikki leaning over him.

"What the fuck do you guys want, I'm fucking sleeping…"

Once Neil noticed Max was awake he started to play with his hands. Max had started to realize Neil did this when he was nervous, but why would he be nervous before camp had even started? Had David finally found all of those fire ants they had placed in the canoes?

His eyes sleepily drifted to Nikki who had a wide, excited look in her eye, like she was about to watch an R-rated movie.

"Max, I don't know what you did, but I think you finally did it!" Nikki bounced with every word, her eyes darting from Max to the doorway of the tent.

"Did… did what? What did I do?"

Neil pitched in. "Max, what don't you do?"

"That's a good point," Max sat up and rubbed his eyes as he stifled a yawn. "But if you woke me up to tell me that, I'll fucking kill you. Does anyone wanna tell me what's going on?!"

The flap of the tent flew open, and in a moment of confusion and shock, a figure was standing at the foot of Max's bed with an unreadable expression, eyes locked with the camper.

"Get. To the dining hall. Right. Now." David's voice was harsh and cold, sending chills through the children's spines. As the counselors turned to leave, Max spoke up.

"Hey, what the hell? Why are you all mad all of a sudden?!"

David opened the flap of the tent and stood for a moment, heavy breaths escaping him like he was trying to hold a scream back. He said nothing until he turned back around, the bags under his eyes prominent and a look of anguish etched onto his face.

"Gwen's been missing since last night, and I think I know who did it."


End file.
